A Hand to Hold
by AliyahNCIS
Summary: Tag to Shiva. Follows my story When It All Comes Crashing Down, which should be read first. Ziva grieves for her father, but she doesn't do it alone.


_AN: Follows my tag to Shabbat Shalom __**When It All Comes Crashing Down**__ . You might want to read it again for context. Inspired by a comment from chellemaria and therefore dedicated to her. Thank you for everything dear friend :) And thank You God for a new story. Love ~Aliyah_

_PS - I wish I could say that I was back, but unfortunately I'm still knee deep in organizing for Part 5 and I'll be surprised if I can return to posting before October. I'm so sorry for the delay, please be patient with me while I sort out the details. And as always, thank you for sticking around :)_

_PPS - one line borrowed from Rustin Kelly's I Only Want You. And one line possibly borrowed from another TZ fanfiction, because it seems familiar so I wonder if I've seen it somewhere before. Apologies for not remembering who or where from._

As Tony watched her slowly turn to face him after speaking with Shmeil, he thought back to that morning before she woke and the brief moment he considered kissing his partner awake. But it wasn't the right time and he'd smiled instead when she opened her eyes and found herself in his arms. Now she regarded him almost fondly, reading the truth clearer than he'd ever be able to speak it while they were both awake and in their right minds.

"You did not have to come."

There were many responses to her simple statement, but he went with candor to hide his real motives for the moment. "Well you always forget your gum and magazines when you fly, so..." She took the bag and glanced to the side, her mind not completely focused on her impending journey. "They'll find Bodnar Ziva. Mossad's looking. CIA, Navy Intel, Interpol," her eyes narrowed as the list went on but he'd saved the best for last, "us." Unable to read the expression on her face, Tony continued rambling as he dredged up the nerve to state his purpose. "Shmeil's got your back. Shmeil the man of steel." There was no response and he sighed. "Don't do this."

Ziva intentionally misinterpreted his words. "I am going to a funeral Tony. I am delivering my father's eulogy."

He let her away with the tangent for now. "How's this for an opening line? 'He did it his way.'"

"My father was um, not an easy man to understand and yet-"

Tony interrupted, unable to let her defend the guy who'd broken her heart and betrayed her too many times to count. "Complicated runs in the family."

She swallowed, looked away, couldn't quite make herself meet his eyes. "Tony, I-"

He stared her down. "What?"

Her eyes grew shiny and he was literally terrified she was going to start crying in front of him. He didn't know if he could handle it right tonight, when her shields were almost back in place and she didn't need him to rescue her like she had twenty-four hours earlier. But instead of breaking down Ziva looped her arm around his neck and eliminated all space between them. Tony was so relieved when she made the first move and he wrapped her in a firm embrace, the Hebrew phrase Shmeil provided slipping easily from his lips.

"At lo levad."

Letting go, Ziva tried not to let the tears fall. "I know." One escaped anyways and Tony reached out to catch it on his finger. She smiled faintly and started to go but found her hand captured in his warm grip.

"I told you that so you'd understand why I'm going with you." Her eyes widened and he stepped close. "I can't let you go again Ziva. The last time I lost you has to be the last time."

Her hand came up to rest on his chest as her gaze searched his. "Tony, it is only for a few days. I'm coming back."

He cleared his throat. "But I need to be sure of that. And I can't hold you like I did last night and not do everything in my power to be at your side for everything that comes next."

She stared at the pavement, doing her best to avoid a reminder of the confession he'd whispered into her hair when he thought she was asleep. "Gibbs-"

"It's all been arranged." Tony squeezed her fingers and nodded towards the plane. "Shmeil was happy to help."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Of course he was," she remarked dryly. "Anthony DiNozzo, the charmer. Even learned Jewish men are not immune."

He laughed. "Trust me Zi, Shmeil is not my type." Left unspoken but not unheard was, _But you on the other hand..._

Independence warred with desperate need inside her and Tony watched the struggle play out in her expression, hoping it came up in his favour. At last she sighed, nodding once. "It will be nice to have you there." A muted 'thank you' followed as she turned away and walked resolutely towards the aircraft.

Shmeil greeted them at the hatch. "I'll let the two of you sit over there." He rested his palm on the plain pine box. "I will stay here with my old friend. Perhaps he will even allow me to share his pretzels."

Settling across from him, Tony and Ziva strapped in while Shmeil took a four inch thick book from his leather case and began reading. Ziva's brow furrowed and she turned to her partner. "You didn't pack anything."

He pointed to the corner. "Shmeil snuck my stuff on board earlier. And two of the magazines in that bag are for me."

"It is a very long flight Tony."

Tony's hand covered hers, a disconcerting habit he'd picked up since they woke in the same bed this morning. "I thought I'd just be here with you. And my lap will make a decent pillow if you want to stretch out later."

One eyebrow arched. "Trying to get me into your lap Tony?"

He chuckled. "Only if you want to be."

A fleeting image of being curled up on his lap while strong arms surrounded her and his shirt absorbed her tears passed through Ziva's mind but she shook it away. Right now she had a funeral to go to. Thoughts of comfort from her partner would have to wait.

**NCIS**

The ceremony of unloading Eli's casket stalled any words Tony wanted to offer to somehow soften this blow. But only seconds after it was over Ziva dropped her things and ran to the little old lady waiting off to the side. Tony got 'thank you' and 'aunt' out of the rapid Hebrew speech and made an educated guess at her identity. As soon as Ziva let go, Shmeil moved to the woman's side and kissed her softly.

"At last I am home my dear. Will you forgive an old man for staying away so long?"

Nettie rolled her eyes and Tony got a glimpse of Ziva at that age. "It has been four days you silly goose."

"Four days is far too much when you consider the time I wasted."

Ziva wiped her eyes. "Did I forget to mention that Shmeil is married to my Aunt Nettie?" She was enjoying his shock.

He closed his mouth and glared at her. "Yes, I believe you did."

Nettie grasped her husband's hand. "He was the love of my life when I was sixteen, but then he left to travel the world following his poetry and in search of history."

Observing the adoration on her face, Tony felt his chest tighten with longing. If there was even a chance Ziva could look at him like that in fifty years, he would give her anything to make it happen.

"And I did not realize the treasure I had," Shmeil lamented. "I am such a fool for taking sixty years to find her again." He smiled proudly, sweeping his hand towards Tony. "This is my beautiful Netta."

"And this must be the famous Anthony DiNozzo." Nettie smiled. "I don't believe I ever said thank you for the flowers."

Tony's trademark grin was back in place. "Ms. David...or rather, Mrs. Pinkus, the pleasure was all mine."

Ziva's eyes narrowed and she took a threatening step towards him. "I thought I told you never to-"

He held up his hands, backing up slightly. "I know. But she's your aunt Ziva, I had to apologize."

Nettie's eyes twinkled. "It is rude Zivaleh, not to introduce me to your husband."

"Oy vey iz mir," Ziva muttered, ruing the day she stepped off the elevator while in conversation with her aunt and asked Tony for his advice.

Tony considered draping his arm across her shoulders and continuing the tease but didn't want to make it worse. She was clearly embarrassed. "Oh, I doubt I'll ever be lucky enough to bear that title. Besides, your niece is dangerous with paperclips. I might not survive." He clasped Ziva's hand briefly so she'd know he wasn't serious.

Solemnity descended again as the group made their way to the car. A quick stop at Eli's Tel Aviv house put them all in funeral wear and their arrival at the synagogue came before Ziva had fully prepared herself. Her only comfort was in knowing that the funeral would be brief. Between the three of them they had given Tony the cliff-notes about what to expect from the service, so he wasn't completely clueless when the rabbi handed Nettie and Ziva torn piece of black ribbon to pin on their dark clothing as a symbol of their loss.

The group took their seats, listened to the Psalms that were recited, and then watched Ziva rise to take her place at the front. Even though her entire speech was in Hebrew, Shmeil on one side of him and Nettie on the other whispered broken translations to Tony whenever there was a pause. She made it through with barely a waver, the mask and learned control keeping a tight rein over her emotions. The sheen of tears in her eyes, however, betrayed how much she loved her father despite his many flaws.

After the memorial prayer Tony maneuvered through the crowd to take his place watching her back. So many people wanted to speak with her that he didn't have time to offer more than a brief smile and a hand rubbed reassuringly down her arm. Ziva was gracious, polite, everything one would expect from the daughter of a man in power, but as the group around her thinned Tony saw the slight stiffening of her spine and immediately scanned the area for anything that might be perceived as a threat.

A tall, dark-haired man approached her. "Ziva." He took her hands and leaned in to kiss both cheeks, murmuring in Hebrew too low for Tony to hear as he edged closer.

"Adam." Ziva cast her gaze over her shoulder for him, a silent plea that he stay. Tony obeyed and stepped to her side. "This is my partner, Anthony DiNozzo."

Adam's eyebrows rose. "Partner?"

Hoping he was following her lead, Tony intertwined their fingers. "Her significant other." He held out his right hand. "And you are?"

Adam looked between them a bit disbelieving, slow to accept the handshake. "An old friend."

"Good to meet you."

The silence grew thick and heavy before Adam nodded once. "If you need anything."

Ziva leaned into her partner, body language clearly stating that she already had what she needed. "Toda."

"Shalom."

She relaxed when he left and Tony looked at her questioningly. "What was that?"

Ziva flexed her shoulders. "He is Shin Bet, part of the Israeli Security Agency. They often work closely with Mossad. We have collaborated in the past." She shrugged. "For a time I thought maybe we could have something, until I discovered he was using me to further his career. He has...never stopped looking for a way in."

Tony's thumb brushed the back of her hand. "I'm sorry Ziva. You're worth much more than that."

The unexpected comment furrowed her brow but before she could say anything Nettie and Shmeil approached. Nettie hugged her niece. "You were wonderful darling. I know that was not easy."

Shmeil touched her shoulder. "We are very proud of you."

Ziva seemed ready to cry. "Toda," she managed a bit hoarsely.

Nettie's gaze shifted to Tony. "That is a very convincing act you put on in defense of my Zivaleh, much like our phone call several years ago." Though phrased as a comment, her tone demanded answers.

Tony swallowed and met his partner's eyes. "It's never an act for Ziva."

A reflection of his declaration hung heavy in her surprised expression, but both were saved from having to answer because it was time to go to the cemetery. Eli's burial was swift and as the only living family members Nettie and Ziva stood alone by the grave to toss in handfuls of dirt. Following the repeated psalm and prayer, those in attendance walked by the pair, offering the traditional condolence, "Hamakom y'nachem etchem b'toch sh'ar availai tziyon ee yerushalayim." _May God comfort you among all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem._

At last it was over and the drive back to Eli's house passed in quiet contemplation of a life cut short. Shmeil and Nettie offered hugs and handshakes when they dropped Tony and Ziva off and Nettie studied her niece. "Are you sure you do not want us to stay motek?"

Though it was customary to sit Shiva for the deceased, Ziva couldn't bring herself to go through with it and Eli lacked not only other family but close friends as well. She glanced at Tony. "We will be fine Doda. I wish to grieve for Eli in my own way. Go home with your husband. Be a comfort to each other. I am not the only one who bears this loss."

"Ani ohevet otach," the older woman whispered. _I love you._

Ziva nodded. "Ani yoda'at. Gam ani." _I know/Me too._

Shmeil settled his arm around his wife's waist. "Next time I come to America I will bring my Netta with me. Then the two of you can show us your city."

She smiled, tactfully sidestepping the assumption that she and Tony were a package deal. "Shalom my friend." He had married her aunt almost five years previous, but they had been friends too long for her to start calling him uncle now.

The car pulled away and Tony waited until they were inside before wrapping Ziva in a hug. This time the tears she'd been holding back fell. Sobs built in her chest, demanding release, and Tony tightened his hold as she finally gave in and let herself mourn for her father. The storm was a lengthy one and his heart broke a little more with each strangled noise that escaped, giving credence to his suspicions that more than one loss was being grieved. He wished fervently for a way to ease her pain but knew from experience that nothing said in the face of death made it any easier.

Finally she took a deep breath and buried her face in his shirt, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," Tony leaned back to lift her chin, "don't be. This is what I signed up for Ziva, this and anything else you need. Okay?" 'Thank you' had been overused today so she simply did not protest, undone by his tender care. "Now, how about you point me towards the kitchen and I make us something to eat. It's been a long time since those peanuts on the plane."

Ziva's gaze grew wary. "Tony, you don't cook."

He tossed her a half-grin, putting them back on safer territory as space grew between them. "Don't and can't are two very different things David. Besides," he held up a folded piece of paper, "Nettie slipped me a recipe for something called," he squinted at the writing, "koogel? Anyways, she said it was comfort food. And you can supervise to make sure I don't totally screw it up."

Torn between arguing and wanting him to act normal instead of being so nice, Ziva reluctantly pointed to their left. "The kitchen is through there." As vulnerable as her heart felt right now, letting her partner tag along may have been the most dangerous decision of all.

**NCIS**

They sat side by side instead of across from each other to eat their meal, which had turned out quite well with Ziva's careful monitoring. Setting his fork down, Tony wiped his mouth with a napkin. "So," he began, feeling out what came next, "do you want some space, time alone? Or do you want to give me a personal tour of your home?"

His voice grew tight on the last word and she bumped her shoulder against his. "My home is in DC Tony, with...my family." She drew a breath. "I would like to go to the olive grove my father spoke of when he came. It has been several years since I've been there and I think the...peace will do me good." Ziva tilted her head, silky hair freed from its ponytail confines falling over her shoulder. "You are welcome to come, if you like."

Tony had to stifle the sudden urge to bury his hands in his partner's hair. That realization brought him up short and he paused to wonder when he'd started allowing himself thoughts of that nature. Usually anything related to Ziva was so closely guarded and locked away in his heart that it never got close enough to the surface to interfere with daily life. But it seemed that, with the introduction of her into his apartment and his bed, the floodgates had been opened and he could no longer hold back the way he truly felt. And had felt, if he was honest with himself, for a length of years that rendered him the worst kind of coward since he had done nothing about it every time he'd had the chance.

Ziva's brow furrowed and he understood that she'd been expecting an answer. He cleared his throat. "Thanks. Uh, I'd be honoured." The choice of words threw her and the confusion lingered. Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I just feel like Israel is...sacred ground for you Ziva. So anything you want to share with me, I'm up for it."

It was tempting to think of leaning her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes to block out reality for a few more precious moments, but Ziva declined her heart's tentative invitation and stood, her fingers seemingly brushing over his arm of their own accord. "We should get changed into something cooler." She glanced back at him and chewed on her lips. "You didn't bring all black, did you?"

Tony shook his head. "Shmeil told me everything I would need. I guess I'm lucky that Israeli men dress casually."

Her lips curved slightly. "I will see you in ten minutes."

When the ten minutes were up Tony stood alone in the foyer of a house too large and grand for an aging single man whose life was his work. A slight creak on the stairs alerted him to Ziva's presence and he turned, slightly surprised to see the light coloured, loose fitting linen pants and blue shirt she wore. It had three-quarter length sleeves and the curve of the neckline just followed her collarbone. She caught his stare and looked down at herself, gathering her hair to one side. "The dress code is reserved more for holy sites than everyday life now, but some things are quite ingrained in me."

"It's different," Tony admitted. "But it's kind of nice to see you in your native environment. Provided you don't want to stay of course."

Ziva ignored his insecurities and inspected her partner's clothing choice - a simple cotton, button up shirt and khaki pants. "That is quite acceptable."

"Glad you approve." He gestured for her to go ahead of him but she made a quick detour to the kitchen and came back with a basket.

"We won't be able to eat all of them."

Tony couldn't begin to tell her how much he liked anything that began with 'we' and referenced himself and his beautiful partner.

Eli's home straddled the line between city and country and it felt more like being in the country as they headed out the back door rather than the front. "We can walk to the orchard from here."

Knowing Ziva's idea of a walk might be something more akin to a hike, Tony hoped the sturdy sandals he'd slipped into would withstand whatever terrain she planned to conquer. But then, considering that her own footwear was simple leather sandals, he had hopes that they wouldn't be scaling any oversized hills today. Unsure of what she needed, he remained silent as he followed her across grassy and rocky scenery until they came to the place where olive trees were planted in neat rows.

Having never given any thought to the matter at all, Tony had no idea black and green olives grew on the same tree and blurted that thought out to Ziva.

She started to laugh, then stopped. "I suppose that is a normal comment when you didn't grow up with them in your backyard." She reached above her head and pulled two colours of fruit from a branch. "The difference is that green olives are picked before they are ripe and black olives are left to ripen on the tree." A few more were dropped in the linen lined basket. "The best ones are always out of my reach."

Ziva had a such a subtle way of asking for help that she almost made it seem like he was the one who came up with the idea. Being several inches taller than her, Tony pulled down a branch so she could pluck the olives. "At your service m'lady."

His tone was low, almost intimate, and her breath caught. "You told my aunt that...it is never an act around me. Is that the truth?"

Her words were spoken softly, carefully, and Ziva's eyes never strayed from the fruit she continued to pick. Tony barely had to move an inch to be firmly in her personal space and his hand folded around hers as he brought it down, letting go of the branch so that it sprang back into place. "The last time I pretended around you Ziva, was when I encouraged you to marry Ray because I thought it would make you happy."

She saw the truth buried in his eyes and tears gathered swiftly in her own. "How long?" she whispered.

Tony's mouth fell open and he could feel his palms sweating. "Well, it's uh...not like I marked the date on a calendar or anything-"

Ziva's gaze bored into him. "How long?"

He swallowed. "I was trying to get the nerve up to talk to you when Michael came into the picture. But I swear to you Ziva, I didn't-"

Two fingers were laid on his lips, her mind reading skills out in full force. "I know. I'm sorry for not believing you."

His hand cupped the side of her face. "I'm sorry it was one more person you cared about."

Her head tilted to the side in curiosity, but it lacked the desired affect when it only pressed her cheek into his touch. That in itself delayed her question but did not stop it. She opened her eyes. "And after that?"

Tony sighed, loathe to remember that cursed desert room. "Somalia, when I thought you were dead and somehow we brought you home. In the elevator, seeing you broken after Mike died. When Cobb kidnapped you and I knew I couldn't survive losing you again. Those moments you acted like you cared when I was on assignment. The way I felt when you and Gibbs went back to Afghanistan. Being too far away when you were facing those thugs alone at the gas station in a snowstorm." He stared into her chocolate eyes. "When I told Monique the truth and used the movie as a cover. The explosion." He set his hand at her waist. "Ziva, I don't think there's been a moment in the last two years when I haven't loved you."

That he hadn't planned to let the rat out of the bag was obvious by the immediate look of fear on his face. And though the timing was all wrong, Ziva knew she couldn't leave such a touching display of courage unmatched even though he wouldn't ask. She rested her hand over his heart. "The summer Gibbs was gone, and I knew for certain when I spent a year watching you fall in love with someone else. Jenny's death, and losing you to agent afloat and the grief. Africa, knowing I could never tell you I was sorry." She lost her nerve and let her gaze drift to the buttons on his shirt. "Paris."

A smile worked its way across his lips. "How could I have left out Paris?" Against his better judgment but feeling like permission might just be granted this time, Tony sifted his fingers through the curtain of dark hair that felt like flowing silk. "I never thought you'd trust me enough again to let me hold you like that." They'd both been wearing as little was possible while still being clothed, and in the hush of a dark Parisian hotel room they'd shared secrets and fears in nothing louder than a whisper, and exchanged one sweet kiss that had to be enough for both of them. What happened in Paris, stayed in Paris.

Memories of that night pooled in her dark eyes. "The bomb at the park, afraid you were too close to the blast. Being trapped in that warehouse and the way you talked me down from panicking because it was so dark." Her fingers tensed on his chest. "EJ, because I thought you'd finally given up on me, that I'd lost whatever chance we might've had. In the elevator-"

Tony's expression grew utterly serious and he cradled her face in his hands. "Ziva David, I will never give up on you. Never." Just as quickly he quirked an eyebrow. "What about the elevator?"

She managed the ghost of a smile. "When I wanted more than just a hug but you were with someone else. And I have felt us growing closer the last year Tony, especially after the explosion and the pact we made. But it might've been years more before I had the courage to tell you I love you if you hadn't said it first."

Shock was immediately taken over by a joy so great Ziva didn't feel worthy enough to be the cause. "Say it again."

"I-" She took a breath. "I love you Tony. I suppose, in a way, I always have."

He took the basket of olives and set it on the ground, eliminating the only thing between them as he held his hands gently at her waist. "The timing is all wrong Ziva. You just lost your father, you're grieving. I don't want to take advantage of-"

Ziva shook her head. "Don't you see Tony? The timing has always been wrong. If we wait for the right time we will be waiting forever. And time waits for no man, or woman, that much I've learned by watching my family die around me whether I was ready to let them go or not. You have to be willing to take a chance before we lose the last one."

Tony drew her into his arms and lowered his mouth to her ear. "I shouldn't've sprung this on you now, I just wanted you to have something to hold onto when everything else was falling apart, one constant in the midst of more turmoil."

She rubbed her cheek on his. "I'm glad you did."

He moved only far enough to whisper the words on her lips. "I'm going to kiss you now."

Ziva smiled, a smile that should not have been possible with grief so heavy on her heart but one he was glad to elicit. "If you do not, I will."

Tony didn't wait for a clearer invitation and all she could think was how familiar his mouth felt as his lips tenderly caressed hers, concealing everything else he might've felt with the aching, overwhelming sense of love he poured out in one simple act. Her breath stolen, Ziva couldn't even open her eyes, couldn't react except to slide her fingers over his jaw and bring his lips back to hers, drinking in the brief delight and tangible comfort he offered. The new, mature Tony didn't let it progress any further, he simply tucked her head into his shoulder and turned his face to nuzzle her hair, letting them hide while what they'd just shared sank in.

Finally Ziva moved back a step and smiled a bit shyly. "Hi."

It was so akin to a morning after that Tony had to stuff down the amusement her simple statement evoked. "Hi." He wove their fingers together and breathed in. "What's next?"

Though the double meaning was not lost on her, Ziva decided to take a break. "Now I will show you my world." The sun was inching lower in the sky and she studied it. "Perhaps tomorrow. Tonight I think I'll watch the sun set with you."

Tony kissed her knuckles. "I'd like that."

**NCIS**

They slept in rooms on separate sides of the house and when he came down for breakfast Tony had to do a double take at the woman he found in the kitchen. Dressed in a long black skirt that swished around her ankles and a dark blousy shirt that covered almost every bit of skin, perhaps the greatest surprise was the black scarf with tan squiggles wrapped completely around and covering all her hair. Stopping short in the doorway, he eyed the outfit warily. "Is it a...synagogue day?"

She touched the scarf self-consciously and shook her head. "No, but I would like to go to the Western Wall today." A folded piece of paper was tucked into the sleeve of her shirt. "It's tradition to place written prayers in the cracks of the wall. For my father I should do this." She fingered the note. "And for me."

"Okay." He waited a beat. "Do I have to wear one of those too?"

Ziva smirked. "Although I have no doubts about your ability to pull off a headscarf that matches your eyes, long sleeves and long pants are all that is required of men."

"That's a relief." Tony took the chance and moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. "Because I highly doubt I would look that good in a skirt."

She elbowed him for being ridiculous and continued her preparations. "If I was more like my aunt, you would be dining in style with a traditional Israel breakfast. But instead you get this," she set fresh pita bread on the counter, "along with hummus, salad, and Turkish coffee."

He frowned. "Isn't it a bit of an oxymoron to serve Turkish coffee in Israel?"

His comment went unheeded. "You might not like it. Sugar is optional."

"I'm game." He took a large sip from the unusually small cup and quickly set it down again. "Wow."

She chuckled. "It may be a bit stronger than what you're used to."

He coughed. "Just a bit." Curious, he tried a forkful of chopped vegetables. "Mmm, not bad. Though I've never thought of salad as a breakfast food."

"It is a staple here." Ziva joined him and dipped a piece of her pita in the hummus, closing her eyes as she ate. "Just as I remember it."

They made it through the meal without bringing up their time in the olive grove yesterday and Tony did not expect to find a car waiting for them outside when they were ready to go. She shrugged. "Mossad is understandable concerned about security. And it is possible that my aunt threatened somebody to see that we are taken care of."

Tony looked at her in disbelief. "Nettie? That sweet little lady I met yesterday?"

Ziva snorted. "You have not seen her angry, nor in defense of her family. That is one mother hen you do no get in the way of."

He shook his head. "Mother bear, Zi."

"Hens can be quite vicious when their eggs are threatened. I do speak English Tony."

"I'm just helping you keep it straight. Can't be easy when there are nine other languages swirling around up there."

Rather than argue she disregarded him and got in the car. It was some time before they made it to their destination and Tony, rather awed by the wall and the people, elected to hang back and let her complete her prayers in private. Thankful that he wasn't going to be too clingy, Ziva walked slowly to the wall, pressed a kiss to the paper, and slid it firmly between two stones. Then she rested her hands and forehead on the wall, closed her eyes, and let the simple prayers and blessings from her childhood make their way to her lips.

She stood there far longer than she'd planned while recent events washed over her and the past made way for the present. Casting her gaze around for her partner, Ziva found him right where she'd left him and wondered how on earth she didn't notice that his eyes had never left her since the moment she moved away from his side. It was a hot day, but he still held out his hand to her and she took it, leading him away and showing him a few of her favourite places in Jerusalem. She recommended he try a sabbich, a special Israeli sandwich, and was pleased when he enjoyed it as much as she did.

Hours later they finally made it back to the house and Ziva disappeared upstairs, coming down with one of her combat knives. Tony took one look and got really still. "Is this the part where you cash in on the revenge I promised to help you with?"

She froze as their scene from the synagogue in DC flashed in front of her, then she shook it away and laughed. "No Tony, I am going to plant the olive tree seedling we brought back yesterday."

He seemed relieved. "Oh. Good." His eyes roamed over her outfit. "Can we get rid of the scarf?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "Yes. Why?"

Tony sighed. "I have a confession to make."

"Oh?"

"Yes." He tugged at the material and it came away with little resistence, spilling dark strands everywhere. "I have a secret love affair with your hair."

Her eyes danced and she tossed it for effect. "Is that so Agent DiNozzo?"

"It is." Tony invaded her space again. "And when you look at me like that I just want to kiss you senseless."

The merriment died away, replaced by longing. "Okay."

He couldn't believe his luck. "Okay as in I have permission?"

"Well," she considered the offer, "perhaps not entirely senseless."

Tony chuckled and circled his arm around her waist, dipping his head to catch her lips in his. "Your wish is my command mia bella." He was quite thorough and Ziva's heart was racing when he let her go.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Fishing for compliments David?"

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "I know what others say. What do you think?"

Tony didn't let his eyes drift any further than hers. "I think you take my breath away Ziva, and that's before you even let me close enough to kiss you. Yes, you are an amazingly beautiful woman and I am entirely captivated."

"Turning on the charm Tony?" she asked quietly.

He skimmed his lips over hers once more. "Do I need it?"

Ziva leaned her cheek on his chest. "It does not hurt."

Content to hold her, Tony let Ziva decide when she was ready to step back and followed her out the back door for a second time, grabbing the plant on their way out. She walked to the far corner of the backyard, a place framed by the rolling hills in the background, and knelt on the ground, pulling out her knife and cutting into the dry soil. When she started using her hands to enlarge the hole Tony joined her to help, and together they made a space large enough to set in the small but sturdy tree. His hands touched hers more than once while they pushed the dirt back in and patted it smooth, then he gave her a moment of complete quiet as she fingered the tiny leaves and stared into the distance.

Wiping the knife clean, Ziva stood and looked at him. "You were wrong you know."

The statement was unexpected. "About a great many things I'm sure. Which one are you referring to?"

She offered her hand and he claimed it in a flash. "The timing isn't wrong. It's perfect."

What a gift he'd been given! Tony could barely even breathe as the tears rushed to his eyes and he forced them back with rapid blinking, slipping his hand under her hair to cup the back of her neck, bringing their foreheads together. "I love you Ziva. Thank you."

Her sigh was one of happiness and he felt it on his skin. "I love you too." And in the stillness and warmth of an Israeli afternoon there was nothing else that could be said. When the walls came crashing down she found a hand to hold, Tony could only be thankful that his was the one she chose.


End file.
